Fever Dream
by KSCrusaders
Summary: Being live bait for an Ardat-Yakshi is not something to be taken lightly. And Garrus Vakarian is not willing to let Shepard deal with her missions--or her nightmares--alone any more. FemShep/Garrus, spoilers for the Samara sidequest. Part 3 of 3 COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own Garrus, don't own Mass Effect, blah blah. If I did own Garrus--actually, let's not go into that :)

A/N: Spoilers for the Samara loyalty sidequest. I have modified the mission to fit my needs for the story--I know what happens in-game, and I know my interpretation is different. Enjoy, and please read and review!

_Fever Dream, Part One_

By KSCrusaders

Garrus hated clubs. Even when he'd been a C-Sec officer, he dreaded assignments to Chora's Den. Too much chaos and too damn many people, any of whom could have a drink too many and ruin someone else's evening. Tonight, however, as he prowled the catwalks above Afterlife with the asari justicar, he was focused entirely on one person.

The safety of the sniper rifle was on, the scope trained on Kaliya Shepard's shining black hair. Through the crosshairs, she looked so much younger than usual, so painfully vulnerable. No guns, weapons, or omnitool--hell, not even decent clothes to cover her up. She wore a blue silken dress that came to her knees, cut so it tied around her neck and left the pale skin of her back entirely exposed.

He gritted his teeth. Live bait for Samara's murderous daughter, and she looked it every inch. He tore his attention from Shepard to glare at the justicar, sitting calmly on the catwalk beside him.

Samara ignored him, deep in meditation. Garrus could feel his muscles clenching, and took a moment to try and calm down. Kaliya was not defenseless, never defenseless no matter how she looked. She still had her wits, her intelligence, and her formidable biotics to protect her.

The problem was that Morinth had the same gifts, compounded with her utter lack of morality and her hundreds of years of experience...and victims. And Kaliya, although more than capable of protecting herself indefinitely in hand-to-hand combat, lacked the physical size or strength to actually overcome an opponent in a bare-knuckled brawl if something did go terribly wrong. He stood up and started pacing, just to give himself something to do.

"Stop," Samara said, her eyes open and glowing. "Your agitation is distracting."

"You can hardly blame me when Shepard's the one being used as bait," he snapped back. God, what he wouldn't have given to throw Miranda or Jack at this problem instead of her. But Kaliya had insisted, and she always got her way.

"You do not have faith in her?" asked Samara calmly.

"It's not a matter of faith," he said hotly. "But if something happens to her because of Morinth, where will we be? What will happen to the mission? Did you ever consider that?"

The blue glow around the justicar disappeared, and she looked up at him from her seated position with suddenly cold eyes. "I gave it the same consideration that you did when you asked Shepard to aid you in killing your betrayer."

"Incidentally," she continued serenely as Garrus gaped at her in stunned silence, "I am curious as to why you did not kill him. You and I are not so different in our approaches, and I would not have hesitated to slay him."

"That's between Shepard and me," he said flatly. They stared at each other for a long moment before Samara looked away, and the tension eased. She closed her eyes again, returning to her meditation, and Garrus went back to the scope. Kaliya had left the dance floor--Garrus scanned the club for her, then spotted her following an asari to a more secluded booth in the back of the club. The asari looked up toward their direction, and he saw the spitting image of Samara, dressed in black.

Morinth. A cold chill ran up his spine, watching them talk. Somehow, despite all the terrifying people Shepard had faced and defeated, Morinth alarmed him the most. Maybe it was because she was completely alone for this. Maybe it was just the nature of Morinth's kills. Wordlessly, he tapped Samara's shoulder and waved her over.

The justicar peered through the scope, then nodded once at him. "Good," she said. "I knew Shepard would be able to get Morinth's attention." A few tense minutes passed, then Samara got to her feet.

"They're working their way toward the exit," she said, handing the rifle back to Garrus. "Do not attempt to follow me in."

"All I need is a line of sight to keep an eye on Shepard. I don't need to be inside the apartment for that."

Samara drew herself up to her full height. "Morinth is _my_ daughter, Vakarian. I asked for Shepard's help, not yours."

Garrus never imagined he'd be in a situation where he needed to stand down an asari justicar, but he wasn't backing down on this. Not when Kaliya was by herself, unarmed and in the territory of an Ardat-Yakshi.

"I'm not losing Shepard again," he said, eyes flashing. "Not to the Collectors, not to the Reapers, and certainly not to your murderous daughter. But I did agree to this crazy plan, and I won't interfere unless she's in clear danger."

For a moment, he thought Samara might hit him. Then inexplicably, the justicar's face softened just a little, and she looked away from him.

"You doubt my ability to protect the woman dearest to you," she said in barely more than a whisper, before she turned back to him with the ghost of a smile. "I might take that as an insult, but given the circumstances, I cannot fault you. Stay close." And without another word, she turned and began walking along the catwalk toward the exit.

Garrus gaped at her, mandibles flaring, then hurriedly followed. He could hardly believe he'd heard Samara right. _The woman dearest to him..._

He'd nursed some impossible feelings for Commander Kaliya Shepard during their first mission together against Saren. How could he not? He and Wrex had stood beside her on every major mission, even fought Saren with her--twice. She may have returned those feelings--they were certainly very close--but any hope of that had died with her. He'd buried those feelings with her memory.

And now she was back, pulling his ass out of the fire again, and she clearly needed him more than ever, though she'd never say it aloud. He kept pace with Samara as the two of them made their way across the catwalks. No matter what the justicar said, he needed to be there. Just in case Kaliya needed him. He was never letting her go on a mission alone again, not after what had happened two years prior.

***

Morinth's apartment had large, wide windows and few places to hide. It was almost as though the woman was begging for a sniper to take her out. The thought only gave Kaliya Shepard a little comfort as she walked into the lion's den. She didn't even know if Samara had allowed Garrus to stay. And even if he had Morinth's head squarely in the crosshairs, it would still be two shots--one to shatter the glass, one to kill.

She was the picture of composure on the outside, smiling and at ease. The drink or two she'd had in Afterlife made her a little more relaxed, though certainly not enough to keep the fear at bay. She took a deep breath or two, calming herself on the pretense of looking around Mornith's apartment. A statue caught her eye, as did two weapons mounted on the wall. An assault rifle and a sword. Contingency weapons, but only as a last resort. She had to trust Samara now.

Samara's murderous daughter watched her with the cool, keen interest of a predator, and it made her blood run cold. Suddenly, irrationally, she found herself wishing for Garrus at her side, as he had been since she found him again on Omega. She shook it from her mind--she needed focus now more than ever.

Morinth sat down on the couch, watching her walk around the apartment. "You've got a lot of music here," Kaliya said, examining the sound system. Expensive. Sleek.

"Music is one of the most sublime expressions of emotion," Morinth replied. "Anger, jealousy, love. It's perfect for anything we feel, communication of sensation without words."

She walked over to the wide windows, looking down upon Omega. Kaliya came to stand beside her, pale fingers picking at the hem of her dress. Instinctively, she found herself searching the nearby buildings for the flash of a sniper scope. Maybe...just maybe--

Morinth drew a deep, contented breath. "Music is part of why I love clubs. People, movement, heat. I can still hear the bass, like the drums of a great hunt out for your blood."

She leaned against the couch and stretched, catlike. "But here, it's muted. And you're safe. Is that what you wanted, Shepard? Safety?"

Kaliya let herself laugh. It came out sounding a little hysterical, but Morinth didn't seem to notice. "Safety's just an illusion," she said with a smile. "And we're fools to believe otherwise."

That got a laugh out of Morinth too. "I like you, Shepard," she said. "And you're right. We're never safe, and yet some continue to strive for it. Where's the fun in that?"

She reached out and tugged at Kaliya's hand, pulling her back toward the couch. The Spectre had to resist the urge to pull away. "Some of us choose differently. Independence over submission. I think we share that, you and I."

Kaliya repressed a shudder as Morinth ran her gloved hands along the fabric of the dress. She closed her eyes to minimize her facial expression. The asari must have taken that as a sign of pleasure, because she felt the hands move to her shoulders, to the back of her neck. She swallowed hard, willing herself not to show any sign of disgust. She had to trust. She had to trust herself and Samara, that she would come to no harm.

She heard Morinth chuckle and pull her closer. "Playing hard to get, are we, Shepard?" she said. Kaliya's eyes flew open, and in that second, she knew she'd made a mistake.

Blue eyes turned black, and the world began to swirl. A pounding in her body, a pulsing in her head. Every whisper crackled, every movement of Morinth's hands on her skin like cold fire. Her limbs went slack under the touch, pulling from her control.

A sea of sensation and sound pulled her in toward those two onyx eyes. The bass of the club music in the distance rose to a roar, her body suddenly consumed with heat. Then cutting through it all like a knife, a clear voice echoing through the beating sound, beckoning her closer still.

_Look into my eyes, and tell me you want me._

Floating. It was so easy to just float in the feverish delirium, let go and allow the voice to drive her. She felt her muscles moving of their own accord, hands fumbling forward.

_Tell me you'd kill for me._

Killing was so easy for her. Always had been since she was a child on the streets of Earth. Why not kill with a purpose? Kill for those eyes boring into her, wiping away her burdens and her fears.

_Anything I want._

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. There was something wrong. Something flickered at the edge of her vision, just behind the eyes. She struggled to focus on it--why was that building in the distance so important? What was there, distracting her from the eyes? Another voice started to pull forward, one buried deep in the recesses of her burning mind.

Garrus.

Kaliya blinked, reeling, and the dream vanished into a vacuum. Garrus was in that building. Somehow, some way, she just knew. He had to be there. Everything came rushing back in a chilling wave--why she was there, and exactly what sat beside her.

She yanked herself out of Morinth's grasp. Her body felt clumsy and uncontrolled, her mind fogged with fever, but she was herself again. "Don't count on it."

The Ardat-Yakshi reeled back, eyes wide with surprise. "But you--" she stammered. "Who are you?" Realization dawned on her face as Kaliya hastily stepped back, body falling automatically into an unarmed combat stance.

Morinth shot to her feet, advancing on her. "Oh, I see what's going on. Looks like the bitch found herself a little helper!" Blue biotic energy surged around her body, and Kaliya ducked sideways just as the wall behind her shattered. But the force of the push caught her side, sending her skidding toward the windows.

She was fast, but Morinth was faster, fueled by desperation and hundreds of years of advantage. Before the Spectre could scramble to her feet, another wave of biotic force gripped her body, wrenching her into midair unceremoniously like a rag doll. Pain ripped through her body, but she refused to scream.

"Morinth!"

The door slammed open and Samara's voice rang out, but she skidded to a halt at the sight before her eyes. Her daughter, holding Shepard helpless above the glass.

"I don't know who she is, Mother," Morinth spat, "but take one more step and I swear I'll throw her to her death!"

Then out of nowhere, an earsplitting crack sounded behind them, and the window behind Morinth shattered. The Ardat-Yakshi's concentration broke for just a second, and Kaliya seized her chance. Her own biotics surged through her system, an expanding shell of energy sending Morinth skidding to the side to avoid the pulverizing force. She felt the stranglehold on her own body break and fell on top of the broken glass littering the floor, cursing under her breath as shards stabbed into her unprotected skin.

She could hear Samara yelling, furniture flying everywhere behind her as Morinth and Samara did battle, but her attention was for the building opposite. She caught a flash of movement, a hint of blue armor on an open balcony, and relief flooded her despite the pain.

"Shepard!"

She whirled around to see Samara trapped in a deadly biotic lock with her daughter. Without hesitation, she forced herself upright and held out a hand. The cuts on her body burned, but her aim was true, and Morinth reeled backward.

"End of the line, Morinth."

"And they call me a monster!" Morinth lunged toward her, but Samara got there first, her face a frozen mask. There was a scuffle, then Samara's footsteps as she advanced on her daughter.

"Find peace in the embrace of the goddess."

Kaliya shut her eyes and looked away, but Samara was mercifully quick. She heard Morinth's body collapse to the floor, then the justicar racing to her side.

"It's fine," whispered Kaliya. "I've had worse."

She opened her eyes and tried to give Samara a reassuring smile, but the poorly hidden guilt on the justicar's face made her cringe. She looked down at herself--cuts and scrapes covered her exposed arms and calves, with small rivulets of red running down them, and the left side of her dress was slowly turning purple with her blood. Three small shards of glass protruded from her left leg and side. It really did look bad, despite being mostly superficial damage.

"We have to get you back to the ship, Shepard," said Samara. She reached for her headset to radio Joker, but then the door to Morinth's apartment burst open a second time.

"Garrus," Kaliya said in relief. The turian stormed toward her, unceremoniously brushing Samara aside as he knelt beside her and easily scooped her up in his arms. She was so much lighter without her armor and weapons. He laid her down on Morinth's couch, his armor stained with little rivulets of red.

He was shaking uncontrollably with anger and fear. Kaliya put a hand on his chest, her fingertips leaving bloody trails. "It's really not as bad as it looks, Garrus," she said quietly. "Please, calm down."

Garrus ignored her and reached into his pack for some medigel, running the orange omnitool over her injuries. The anesthetic went in first around the shards still protruding from her body, then the medigel for her more minor injuries. He looked at the omnitool readout and gritted his teeth.

"I'm taking the glass out, Shepard," he said, unable to keep the shaking out of his voice. "Try not to move."

"We should return to the Normandy and the medical clinic onboard," said Samara. "I do not think--"

"That's right, you didn't think," Garrus snapped furiously, and the justicar actually took a step back. "Keep out of this before you make it worse." Kaliya tugged at his arm, trying to get his attention off of Samara. She had never seen Garrus so angry with a teammate in her life.

"Garrus, Samara, stop. We'll discuss this later in debriefing," she said firmly, and although she was in a shredded, bloodstained dress instead of her battle armor, she was still Commander Shepard. Garrus turned disdainfully away from Samara and looked at Kaliya, who closed her eyes and nodded.

She felt no pain, but rather three sharp pinches, then the cooling of the medigel. When she opened her eyes, the glass was out and most of her cuts had sealed. They were not completely healed, but no longer open, as though they'd had a few days or so to recover. She sat up gingerly, Garrus's arms supporting her back.

"Go on back to the Normandy and tell them we're on our way, and to prep the clinic as a precaution," said Kaliya to Samara. "Garrus and I will follow in a few."

The justicar bowed her head. "Of course, Shepard." She looked like she wanted to say something more, but Garrus was still there, crouched over Shepard, and instead she turned on her heel and left the apartment.

Kaliya looked up at Garrus. The look on his face as he met her eyes was unlike any she'd ever seen from him--anger, fear, relief danced in those predatory eyes, his mandibles twitching in agitation. He really had been terrified for her. She was still more or less supported by his arms, and she suddenly noticed how close he was to her.

Turians ran hot. She'd never noticed it before, but now she could feel the heat of his skin through his gauntlets, his warm breath on her face as he bent over her. He smelled like smoke and some sort of strange, heady musk.

"You could have been killed, Shepard," he said, his voice low and strained. "When we get back on that ship, Samara is in for--"

She interrupted him by putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. "Samara is my responsibility, and she is 'in for' whatever I deem necessary," she said sternly. "She couldn't possibly have known that Morinth would try to take me hostage. Ironically enough, breaking free of Morinth's mental control was probably a bad idea."

Garrus blinked at her. "Is that what she was doing to you? I couldn't see exactly what was going on."

She allowed herself a small smile, but didn't answer. Ignoring Garrus's protests, she stood up gingerly. Everything felt fine, if a little stiff and slow from the anesthetic. "So you were keeping an eye on me," she said. "Thank you, Garrus."

She headed toward Morinth's bedroom, poking through the clothes. She couldn't very well go wandering around Omega covered in blood and expect no one to notice anything amiss. Wrinkling her nose at the thought of wearing Morinth's things, she grabbed a dark red shift and ducked into the bathroom to clean up.

Heavy footsteps, then a soft thunk. It sounded like Garrus had settled himself outside the door. "Are you sure you're all right, Shepard?" he asked.

Kaliya didn't answer immediately. Physically, she was fine. Mentally, she couldn't help but be a little rattled. But Garrus was here, just a few feet away. Her gut instinct told her that inexplicably, irrationally, she was safe. She shook her head and ignored it--she and Garrus were out of immediate harm, but they didn't have long before people came prying after the mess they'd made.

She cleaned up quickly, stepped into Morinth's dress, and opened the door. Garrus gaped at the sight of her, much as he had when she'd first put on the blue dress borrowed from Miranda, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Classy, Garrus," she teased gently. "Though I suppose I deserve it, don't I? Morinth's things don't leave much to the imagination."

He blinked twice, then seemed to shake himself back to reality. "Erm...right, Shepard. Look, let's--let's just get going. This place gives me the creeps."

***

Miranda gave Kaliya a long-suffering look as she lifted the blood-stained, torn garment. "Can't even go to a club without getting yourself in trouble, Commander," she said dryly. "At least I lent you a cheap one."

Kaliya rolled her eyes at her second-in-command. "All right, so I owe you a cheap dress. Unless you want this one." She gestured to the red fabric on the medbay counter.

Miranda made a disgusted face and shook her head. "No thanks, Shepard. I know where that's been." She unceremoniously tossed both dresses into the compactor, earning herself a disapproving glare from Dr. Chakwas before she left the medbay.

"She's right, you know," said the doctor as she gave Kaliya a final once-over. "You really do have an uncanny ability to get yourself into trouble."

"I've noticed."

There was a soft hum from the medical equipment, then a beep. Chakwas scanned the readout and nodded, looking satisfied.

"It looks like Garrus did a damn good job patching you up, Commander," she said. "You'll be just fine. It was mostly superficial damage anyway."

"That's what I told Garrus. Hopefully he's calmed down a bit by now. I've never seen him so angry at a fellow crew member before."

A very strange expression flickered across the doctor's face. She opened the medbay door, and Garrus and Samara walked in, Garrus grim-faced and Samara deceptively calm. Dr. Chakwas excused herself and closed the door behind her, leaving the three of them in the medbay with a very awkward silence.

One that Samara thankfully broke soon. "I...should apologize, Shepard," she said, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Morinth--"

"No, Samara," said Kaliya, cutting across her. She hopped off the examination table and crossed her arms, scrutinizing them both. Garrus had not changed out of his armor. Streaks of rusty red still discolored some of the blue, and she frowned.

"We all knew it was dangerous trying to apprehend Morinth." She had assumed her calm, deliberate "commander" voice in an attempt to put everyone's minds at ease. "We knew the risks. That mission did not go perfectly, but it was no more or less dangerous than any other mission we've done, and I've certainly had far worse injuries before. It was a necessary risk for a worthwhile end."

The justicar relaxed a little. "Thank you, Shepard," she said, sounding relieved. They both turned to look at Garrus, who was still stubbornly silent.

"Garrus," said Kaliya softly. She waited until the silence got uncomfortable enough that he had to look up at her.

The turian scowled a little, but nodded. "Fine, Shepard," he said, still sounding a little sullen. "It's your mission."

Samara left after a few awkward seconds of silence, leaving Kaliya and Garrus in the room alone. She cast an eye over the rust-red on his armor and shook her head. "Aren't you going to clean that up?"

Garrus gave her an unfathomable look. "That was a lot of blood back there, Shepard," he said quietly. "You were a mess."

"We've been over this," she replied, a little impatience creeping into her voice. "Human superficial wounds look a lot worse than the same wounds on a turian."

"I know, Shepard," he snapped. "I just--" He let out a little growl of frustration and began pacing back and forth. "I know we had to take Morinth down. Even if it wasn't so important to Samara. You can't kill as many people as Morinth did and get away with it. I just wish it hadn't been you in there."

She knew Garrus cared more about this kind of thing than she did. Knew that while she saw missions in terms of risk and reward, cost and benefit, Garrus saw the people involved. It was part of why she kept him around. Multiple viewpoints were an asset. But he was unusually agitated about this.

"I've gotten used to being the one thrown into the fire," she said lightly, trying to calm him down.

"And I've gotten used to being in there with you."

The words spilled out before he could stop himself, but they were absolutely true, and she needed to hear them. He couldn't go through every mission with her giving him a heart attack every other hour like she had tonight. He needed to fight at her side rather than just standing watch and praying nothing happened to her.

Kaliya stared, then smiled. A rare, genuine smile, neither strained nor preoccupied. "I know," she said. "And...for what it's worth, I'm sorry for driving up your blood pressure."

Garrus chuckled. "Yeah, well, the dress certainly didn't help either."

The tension suddenly snapped, and she burst out laughing. It took the least second longer for Garrus to figure out exactly what he'd said.

"No, what I meant was that you weren't in your armor!" he began hastily. "And the dress exposed so much skin that you--" He stopped when she just laughed harder, bent almost double, supporting herself against the medbay counter. A sheepish smile spread across his face watching her. She looked so different when she was laughing--younger, carefree. As though she'd never heard of Saren or Reapers or any of it. He hadn't seen her look like that since...two years ago.

When she finally composed herself, she was wiping tears from her bright blue eyes. "Garrus," she said, still giggling, "you really should quit talking while you're ahead sometimes."

He shrugged, looking at her with warm eyes. "I try, Shepard." He took the opportunity to memorize the moment: her smile, her helpless laughter. It would only last so long.

His gaze lingered on the faint pink marks still visible against her pale skin. "You should get some rest," he said. "That beating you took from Morinth had to hurt."

"I'll go to bed if you clean my blood off your damn armor," she retorted.

A chuckle, and a shake of his head. "Fine. It's a deal." He watched her go from the medbay, glad that he'd been able to grant her a little bit of light and laughter...however unintentionally he'd done it. For the first time since she'd walked into Afterlife alone, he felt he could relax.

She was safe, for now, and he could breathe easy. Until the next life-or-death situation came up, at least.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Part Two is here. Thank you all in advance for reading and reviewing, glad you've been enjoying the trouble I put Kaliya and Garrus through, and props to anyone who can catch the Buffy reference :)

_Fever Dream, Part Two_

___One breath._

____

A whisper, a hiss, grew to a dulling roar that triggered all the instincts her violent life had forged. Survive. Fight. Not this not now not while she could do something about it goddammit. Flashes of terror and clarity, heat and chill.

Two breaths.

Six to nine seconds. Ellison's voice screaming about "time of useful consciousness" on Arcturus. Training kicked in, breach seal, torso area. Somewhere something she could do before --fingers fumbling at dials, tumbling helplessly. Swirls of light and sound, pounding against her temples. Swelling, compressing, twisting inside her suit.

Three breaths.

___Panic with growing roar and escape of precious oxygen no no no no no no no--two seconds of useful consciousness left--the planetary atmosphere burning no not possible death by hypoxia first--one--couldn't help think of something useless--phasing now, shrinking swelling falling--_  
_  
_Kaliya Shepard's bright blue eyes flew open with a start. All was silent in the captain's quarters. No roaring, no falling, the mattress supporting her as she gasped for air like a drowning person.

Or someone who'd been spaced. She cursed under her breath. Of all the goddamn things for Cerberus to leave for her, they left the nightmares.

The Prothean nightmares were still there, burned indelibly into her mind. They came and went without warning. And now with them came dreams of falling. Dreams of dying. Probably the price for the Illusive Man bringing her back intact with no mind control chip. Her clock read 0343 hours as she lay there, drenched in chill sweat and shaking uncontrollably.

She took a few deep breaths and sat up, trying to calm herself. That was the worst nightmare she'd had by far since her revival, possibly due to Morinth messing with her mind just a few hours prior, though there was no need to tell Samara that. The justicar already felt guilty enough over using her for live bait...and how poorly that had gone. Her nightmares would probably fade with time again, but for now, she was getting no more sleep. She couldn't close her eyes without falling.

She got to her feet and pulled on a bathrobe over her clothes, grabbed a mug, and wandered on down to the kitchen. Normandy was silent, everyone asleep with just the barest hum of electronics to indicate that the ship still flew. She hit the kitchen lights and made some tea.

Thankfully, EDI didn't disturb her though she knew the AI never slept. Just her and her thoughts in the wee hours of the morning. She stared down into the mug and sighed.

She'd been honest when she told Morinth that safety was an illusion. She had never been safe in her twenty nine short, violent years of life, and she never would be. She was a Spectre, a symbol, too powerful and too high-profile to ever be safe. And now, she was in the unique position of knowing what it was to die. The terror, the desperate and instinctive grasping for something disappearing forever. Though all things considered, at least hypoxia was a relatively painless way to go. Three breaths of panic, then slowly swirling darkness.

She'd never been a religious person, and she wasn't starting now. All she could remember after the suit breach was the primal terror, followed by nothing. No blinding light, no gates of white pearl, no flames. Just oblivion. Silence.

Broken now by footsteps. She could recognize that tread anywhere--swift, steady, with a curious rhythm to it that distinguished it from a human gait. Garrus didn't look at all surprised to see her there when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of loose charcoal grey pants. She watched him curiously as he approached, the dim light playing off his scales. She'd never seen him without a shirt before, and the sight was--intriguing.

There was a predatory confidence and grace to him, something that the bulky armor and restrictive clothes that usually encased turians covered up. He was muscle and bone and vertical scales, lean and ferociously strong. The animal part of her, the base natural selection instincts of predator and prey, reacted with something akin to--not fear, but apprehension. Apex predator indeed. She felt her cheeks grow warm and dropped her gaze before he caught her gawking, determinedly staring into her mug.

Garrus helped himself to some of the hot water, then went rooting around in the cabinets for something dextro-based. "Couldn't sleep again, huh?"

It wasn't really a question, and Kaliya didn't bother giving him the runaround. He knew her too well. Instead, she just nodded and refilled her own cup.

Garrus sighed and leaned against the counter across from her. Here they were, at almost four in the morning. Just him and Shepard, two sleepless warriors in their pajamas. They looked almost laughably harmless like this. But appearances were extremely deceiving, especially when it came to Kaliya Shepard.

There were dark circles under her eyes, stark against her pale skin and tendrils of black hair. Nightmares again, just like old times. Why hadn't the Illusive Man had the decency to spare her those?

"Protheans?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "No," she said in a deceptively calm, almost matter-of-fact tone. "My death." She gave him a wry smile and added, "At least it makes for a change of pace."

He knew he should say something, but all he could do was stare. Her own death. The singular event that sent them all fracturing across the galaxy, and she remembered it. She dreamed about it. God help him, but the surreality of being around this woman was making his head spin.

"How the--Shepard, that can't be healthy," he said at length, voicing half of what he'd been thinking.

She shrugged and took a swig of tea. "No. But consistently running into firefights, baiting Ardat-Yakshi, and recruiting the most dangerous people in the galaxy for a suicide mission aren't good for life expectancy either. I figure the horrific nightmares can only shave off a couple more years."

Garrus shuddered a little. "Shepard, if that was supposed to be funny--"

"Not really," she admitted. "It was a bit half-assed." She fell into a thoughtful silence, looking into her mug and biting her lip. When the hell had her life gotten so utterly insane? Here she was, on the most advanced warship in space, working with a terrorist organization, and talking to her turian best friend at fucking four in the morning about her nightmares of dying at the hands of a bunch of bug aliens. It did make her wonder sometimes if staying in Detroit would have been so bad.

Then again, she'd probably be Reaper-killed slime by now had she stayed on Earth. How horribly ironic. But greatest good always came first, and if at the cost of her normalcy--well, she'd never had it to begin with. Not really.

Garrus took a deep breath. "You know...if you need to talk about it--"

Kaliya shook her head abruptly, still gazing into the mug as though it was a crystal ball. "Six to nine seconds," she said vaguely. "Time of useful consciousness for humans upon being spaced, and that's generous." She finally looked up at him and tried to manage a smile.

"It was over quickly enough," she continued, "And really, I can't imagine the last two years were easy on you either."

Her words hit a little too close to home for comfort, but before he could stop himself, his thoughts came spilling out. Again. Just like they always did around her.

"It felt like being cut adrift, Shepard," he whispered. "And not just me, but everyone else too. I couldn't believe you were really gone. Not until a few months later, when those ungrateful bastards began to hush everything up. I couldn't stay on the Citadel after that."

He laughed bitterly and shook his head. "Here I am complaining about being alive the last two years, and you actually died."

Kaliya felt her stomach twist at the look on his face. She'd had a difficult time grasping how much time had passed until Ashley's reaction on Horizon drove it home. And now the look on Garrus's face, the bitterness in his voice...

"Don't be like that." She scooted a little closer to him, put down her mug, and tentatively placed a hand on his arm. He was warm, almost feverish to the touch, the skin smooth and unyielding.

"Garrus," she said quietly, "the hardest thing in this screwed-up galaxy is to live in it. And as far as I'm concerned, the fact that you went on and tried to make things better makes you a big goddamn hero."

Garrus opened, then closed his mouth, looking for something to say and simply failing. Kaliya Shepard was not one to throw around compliments lightly. Encouragement, maybe, but not compliments. Unable to speak, he instead did the only thing he could think of doing, what he should have done when he saw those brilliant blue eyes looking back at him on Omega for the first time in two years.

He turned toward her and hugged her. He felt her tense instinctively, but she quickly relaxed, her head resting against the lip of his collar ridge, soft human arms wrapping around his neck, her breath light against his skin. Garrus found his face pressed in her black hair and tried his best not to sample the smell of her soap. She was slightly cooler than him in body temperature, and so light and soft in his arms. Her heartbeat, her pulse, so close to the surface.

And now in a heady rush, all those impossible feelings for her came swarming back. But he couldn't do anything to fight them now, not after having lost her once, after living through the last two years of disillusionment and darkness. Just as Samara had said--the woman dearest to him, his only true friend in the galaxy.

Her heart rate sped, and she abruptly began to pull back. He let her go hastily, uncertain if he'd stepped over some line. For one awful moment as she stared up at him with those X-raying blue eyes, he feared he had.

Then she smiled, her pale cheeks turning a little pink. "Any time," she said faintly, her heart still pounding.

She turned away from him, the blush getting steadily brighter. She was usually so comfortable around Garrus, but now--she could still feel those arms around her, that heat, and it mingled with her sleep deprivation into a pounding tension. She could still feel Garrus watching her minutely, and suddenly, she had to get out of there.

"We should both get some sleep, Garrus," she said in a calm voice that fooled no one. "I'll...see you tomorrow." And like a shot she was gone.

It wasn't until she'd made it back to the Captain's quarters that she let herself stop and think, sitting at her desk. One of the drawbacks of a relentlessly logical mind was how quickly it forced her to face the music.

"Oh, God damn it."

She dropped her head into her hands, thinking frantically. She...couldn't do this. Not with Garrus. Dear God, she had the worst timing of any individual in the galaxy. Garrus was her best friend, her most trusted comrade. To develop feelings for him now was inconvenient and inappropriate and--

She really should have seen it coming. It was naive to presume that she was immune to the effects of a high-stress scenario. Two high-stress scenarios, if she counted the mission to take down Saren. Kaliya took a few deep breaths, got to her feet, and sat down on the bed, legs crossed and eyes closed.

With painstaking care and methodical precision, she forced herself to just sit and think the whole thing through. And bit by bit, the little pieces started to fall together. The look on Garrus's face at the sight of her, lying on Morinth's floor and covered in her own blood. The catch in his voice just a few minutes ago. Her own chilling terror when he'd been shot, the clawing anxiety waiting for him to recover. The warmth...the easiness of being around him again, and now, the uncomfortable tension.

And it wasn't as though it started now. There were little signs, little hints from their first mission against Saren. She should have known better, realized what was going on. Garrus was the only person for whom she ever broke the rules.

An hour of thinking later, she opened her eyes and sighed. She could come up with only one solution. She needed to get rid of the tension somehow. She needed harmony and stability among her crew, especially on a suicidal mission where everything hinged on trust and confidence. Any distractions could be fatal.

But working up the courage was something else altogether. Kaliya couldn't help but laugh at herself. Here she was, a big goddamn hero by all appearances, the first human Spectre, back from the DEAD, and she couldn't handle talking to Garrus of all people.

As she laid back down in bed, she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. He might still be awake. Maybe--

No, she needed at least a little time to get herself back under control. She couldn't just march up to Garrus and tell him she had feelings for him. She just...couldn't. It wasn't what she did. So she resigned herself to another sleepless night of thinking...and pretending.

* * *

Garrus finally felt himself drifting off after tossing and turning for nearly an hour after Shepard left. Just a few hours of sleep before another day, and in all likelihood, another mission. Just a little bit of oblivion, hopefully without dreams...

___One breath._

____

He couldn't possibly have heard correctly. Gaping at Anderson, Williams, and Joker. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. Goddammit you fools a REAPER couldn't kill her, there was no way she'd just let a geth attack get her. They had to be wrong. There had to be--

___Two breaths.__  
____  
Spaced. He stopped yelling when he saw the glassy tears threatening to fall from Joker's eyes. She had stayed behind so they could live. Remained aboard a dying, burning husk of a ship. But when he heard Joker's choked recollection, all he could feel was fury. Why her, why not Joker or Anderson or godammit why not anybody but her?_

____

Three breaths.

He turned away from them, couldn't bear their silent, apologetic grief. The question turned over and over in his mind, and he couldn't get it to go away. Why hadn't he, Garrus, been there? Why was the Spectre application more important than her and why now when she'd just started missions again and why why why--

The air froze in his lungs, and the breathing stopped.

___They began to sink in, the implications of a galaxy, of a life, without Kaliya Shepard. Without those bright blue eyes, calm voice, and rare joy of a smile. Without the apex of the singularity that had, slowly but inexorably, pulled him to its core. The seed of a gnawing void had been planted.  
__  
____He never understood the human metaphor of a heart breaking until now, with his splintering slowly into little glassy pieces. _


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Third and last part is here! I've realized that thanks have been delayed, and are very much in order. Thank you to the folks in the Garrus Chat for the encouragement, suggestions, and occasionally brain-bleach inducing comments...though I won't name names XD A special thanks to Aaron and Dani for beta-ing, and to Bree for transcribing Garrus's second romance conversation for me.

_Fever Dream, Part Three_

"Shepard, you look like shit."

Kaliya groaned to herself. Trust Jack's characteristic bluntness to immediately cut to the chase. The tattooed convict held up her hand, and the coffee pot came flying across the mostly empty mess hall, whizzing dangerously close to Kaliya's head. The Spectre glared at Jack, but she just laughed and poured herself a cup before offering it to Kaliya.

"What, did the krogan take a dump in your fish tank or something?" she asked.

Kaliya's mouth quirked a little at the admittedly disturbing mental image. "No, nothing like that." She declined the coffee--even after Cerberus's hefty reconstruction, she was still quite the lightweight, and she didn't want to be bouncing off the walls for a few hours. "Just had some trouble sleeping."

Jack scoffed. "So get some pills from Chakwas. Or hell, get Taylor to wear you out for a couple of hours."

Kaliya gaped at Jack, who blithely continued, "If he wasn't one of the Illusive Man's lapdogs and mooning after you all day, I'd hit that. Of course, as it is--"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture." Jack loved to try and get a rise out of her, and while it usually didn't succeed and she didn't really mind the banter, she wasn't in the mood for it after only a few hours of sleep.

Jack chuckled and shook her head, draining half her coffee in one gulp. "You're too damn inhibited, Shepard. You seriously need to get laid."

Kaliya opened her mouth to retort, then stopped. Jack was decidedly _not_ a source of sound, reasoned ideas...but she'd inadvertently struck at part of Kaliya's predicament with Garrus. And while she'd be damned if she went to the unstable biotic for relationship advice...there was the inescapable fact that Jack had a lot more experience with sex in her short life than anyone else on board.

The sheer insanity of the situation did not escape her. Here she was asking _Jack_ of all people for an opinion, but she did need an efficient solution to her feelings for Garrus. So instead of just walking away like she would have, she lapsed into a thoughtful silence, wondering how she was going to phrase her question. At least the mess was mostly empty--the bulk of the crew hadn't gotten up yet.

She glanced around to make sure that Garrus was nowhere in sight before taking a deep breath. "All right. Suppose I took that suggestion seriously," she said in a low voice, poker-faced. "Any ideas on how to proceed?"

It was probably the first time she'd rendered Jack speechless rather than the other way around. The young woman almost choked on her coffee. Finally, she rewarded Kaliya's honesty with a suspicious glare.

"Not a member of the girl's club, Shepard."

"Not what I meant," Kaliya snapped with a touch of exasperation. Her normally generous patience was a bit thin today, and it was uncomfortable enough talking about this without the very real possibility of someone overhearing them.

Jack stared at her, then a wide and slightly wicked smile spread across her face. "Hell," she said slowly, clearly enjoying the situation. "You're actually asking me for input?" When Kaliya didn't reply except to cross her arms and raise one eyebrow, Jack shrugged. "Well, like I said, Taylor spends half his time in briefing staring at your--"

"Not interested," said Kaliya quickly. "I was looking for more...general advice."

"OK. Just take whoever it is you want, slam him against a wall, and if he doesn't fight back, it's all good."

Kaliya groaned and dropped her face into her hands, feeling her pale cheeks burn. Never mind that Garrus was easily stronger than her at hand-to-hand combat--no, the mental image Jack had put in her head was a bad thing to be thinking about this early in the morning...not to mention uncomfortably distracting. "You're not helping."

Something in her voice must have tipped Jack off. "This is...actually bothering you, Shepard," she said incredulously.

There were a few seconds of thoughtful silence from Jack. Finally she said, "Look...I'm certainly not one to judge on...exotic encounters, but if this is Vakarian we're talking about, I've got no experience with those walking raptors."

If Kaliya had been blushing before, it was nothing on the burning in her cheeks and ears now. Damn her pale skin. Jack openly gaped at her, mouth hanging open. Kaliya could have kicked herself. If only biotics allowed one to evaporate on command. Talk about a lapse of judgment on her part--

"Looks like I guessed right," said Jack quietly. "No wonder you're freaked out." She opened her mouth, seemed to think better of what she was about to say, then closed it and frowned, thinking.

"Well, if you're not going to shove him up against a wall, just talk to him. That's what you do best--talk a problem to death until it cries uncle."

Kaliya managed a weak smile at the backhanded compliment despite her embarrassment--not exactly what she needed to hear, but practically a hug and a kiss for luck coming from Jack. Why had she thought this would be a remotely good idea? "I'm not sure that's the reaction one's supposed to provoke in this situation."

"Well, who else would Vakarian possibly have the hots for but you?" said Jack with a derisive scoff. "The Cerberus cheerleader? That crazy asari? _Me_? Shit, Shepard, he's practically glued to your hip already."

She might have protested under different circumstances, but the problem was that a lot of what Jack said rang true. Logically speaking, she and Garrus had always been very close, in this mission as well as the previous one. Of course, convincing herself of that over her insecurities was entirely impossible, and--

"Morning, Commander. Jack."

Jacob's voice came from around the corner, and it was all Kaliya could do not to jump out of her skin. She nodded at Jacob's salute, then turned back to Jack, blue eyes suddenly ferocious.

"Not a word about this to anyone else, understand?"

"Who do you think I am, Joker? Gossipy bitch of a pilot," Jack replied with a roll of her eyes. "Oh, and Shepard, if you need some liquid courage, I've got some stuff hidden away."

"You're kidding me," said Kaliya incredulously. "Jack, I've got no problem so long as it doesn't impact your mission performance, but if Miranda finds out--"

Jack shrugged. "Then I'll hit her over the head with the bottle. Not everyone plays nice like you, Shepard."

Kaliya decided to cut her losses at this point. She just shook her head and walked away, Jack's chuckles following her. She wasn't sure if the conversation with Jack had made her feel better or worse about the whole thing, but it certainly had given her food for thought. She grabbed a bagel from the mess and headed back on up to her quarters, intending to at least get something productive done before...whatever she intended to do about Garrus.

She tried her hardest to fight down the panicky feeling at the back of her mind, the self-preservation and distancing instinct forged by her gang days and Akuze and every other terrible thing that had happened in her life. Her every instinct, her every experience screamed in protest at the thought of being so vulnerable with another person, of letting him in, but she couldn't push Garrus away either.

She...needed him. Not just as a mission recruit, but she, Kaliya Shepard, depended on him for so much. And now, she had to just take a leap of faith and hope it worked out.

Leap of faith. She hated that phrase. And the longer she sat here thinking with nothing to distract her, the more likely she'd succumb to self-doubt and her own deep-set fears. She looked back at her console, decided to push the busy work aside and do some rounds checking out Normandy and the crew before talking to Garrus.

As perverse as it sounded, it was harder to dwell on her own problems when other people's problems were staring her in the face.

* * *

Garrus, who'd spent most of the day hiding in the gunnery control station, managed to get a surprising amount of work done given how distracted he was. The new upgrades were installed, and he liked their chances against a Collector ship a lot better now. Though if what Kaliya remembered about the Collector attack against the first Normandy was remotely accurate, they could always use bigger guns.

And again, his thoughts drifted back to her. His jaw tensed, and he went back to the new upgrades with a vengeance, as though the guns had done him some personal wrong. It was easier taking out his tension on them than actually talking to Kaliya about what had happened last night.

She hadn't been...upset. Or angry. He could tell when she was. Instead, when she pulled away from him, those big blue eyes had contained something wildly different from any emotion he'd ever seen from her. Deep flickerings of fear, but also...surprise? If only humans had proper mandibles with which to express themselves. He could only spend so long trying to read her expressions before the sheer range of possibilities drove him insane.

And speak of the devil, he heard a pair of soft footsteps heading toward the gunnery station. The door opened a second later, and he tried to appear busy, but dammit he'd already finished calibrating. And he did want to talk to her.

"Shepard," he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Need me for something?"

She peeked around his shoulder. "You installed the new upgrades?" she said, sounding genuinely curious.

"Yeah. Normandy packs a lot more firepower now. I like our chances against the Collectors a lot better."

"Nicely done," said Kaliya appreciatively, sitting down on the bench. She decided that the best way to keep this from getting awkward was to just keep talking, try to fill the silences as easily as she could. "This mission just got a little less suicidal."

Garrus chuckled, and the tension eased just a little, though he could still feel it. Sometimes he wondered if it would be easier being on a neural network like the geth. He was pretty sure he and Kaliya were on edge for the same reason, but it wasn't a subject easily broached. Stupid, really, when he thought about it--dancing around the issue. Yet here they were, dancing away.

He cast around for another subject, and found it almost immediately. At least she made it easy for him, though he wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. "It's strange going into a suicide mission on a human ship. Your people don't prepare for high-risk operations the way turians do."

Kaliya raised an eyebrow. "So how do turians prepare? Normandy's part turian design, I might as well incorporate some of the customs."

"You've already done some of that, I think," Garrus admitted, thinking back to their first mission together. Once she'd gotten full control over Normandy, Shepard had taken full advantage of her Spectre status to adjust how things were done aboard her ship. "More operational discipline, fewer personal restrictions. You're pretty lax about the little things as long as we get our jobs done. That's a little more along the lines of turian mentality, though Normandy does lack the training rooms of a turian vessel."

"Training rooms?" she asked. "For what, exercise? Sparring?"

"Whatever helps people work off stress," he explained. "It's supervised, of course, and it's a good way to settle grudges amicably. There was this one time when--"

He suddenly stopped talking. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to go into this with Kaliya, not after the awkwardness of last night. And it was just getting to be comfortable talking to her again.

"When what?" she prompted curiously. She'd loved Garrus's stories about action on the Citadel, so different from her experiences in the Alliance. Her formidable biotics and gifts for nonviolent resolution had resulted in assignment to less high-profile, but equally strategic missions. Until she became a Spectre, she'd rarely seen visible action the way Garrus had.

"When..." he began reluctantly, but her body language made it clear she was genuinely curious. "When we were about to hit a batarian pirate squad. This recon scout and I had been at each other's throats, and she suggested we settle it in the ring."

He chuckled a little at the memory, beginning to pace back and forth. "She and I were the top-ranked hand-to-hand specialists on the ship. I had reach, but she had flexibility. It was brutal, and after nine rounds the judge called it a draw."

"Ouch," said Kaliya quietly. "No tiebreakers?"

His mandibles twitched and he coughed. "Well...we ended up holding one in her quarters, if you know what I mean. I had...reach, but, uh, she had flexibility."

There was a very awkward silence, broken by Kaliya's laughter. "Wow," she said. "Got a little more story than I expected there."

"Sorry, Commander," he said hastily. "I didn't meant to--"

"No, it's fine," she said, getting to her feet. Thank god for the dim lighting down here--she could feel her cheeks starting to burn again, and plunged forward with what she wanted to say before she lost her nerve. "In fact, it...gave me an idea."

Garrus stared at her, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. "I...uh...didn't think you'd feel like sparring, Commander," he said cautiously.

She really could have used some of that 'liquid courage' Jack had suggested, brain cells be damned. But here she was, she and Garrus staring at each other yet again in an increasingly tense silence.

She couldn't say it--she just couldn't. But Garrus had thankfully given her an out. "Actually, I think you could teach me a thing or two," she said. "Hand-to-hand combat has always been a weakness of mine." She looked down at her arms, at the little pink lines that still covered them, and added, "That got brought home to me dealing with Morinth."

Garrus let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, uncertain whether to be relieved or disappointed. "I'll go easy on you, Shepard," he teased gently.

* * *

Cargo holds were not the ideal places to spar, but Garrus was nothing if not resourceful. There would be a little echoing, but he'd laid down mats and grabbed some medigel so no one would get hurt. There were still a few minutes to go before Shepard turned up, and he took the time to stretch and limber up a little. It was late in the evening now, and most of the crew had gone to their quarters. He hadn't done this in a while, and he'd certainly never sparred against a human female. But he did know how Kaliya moved in battle, and he knew that for all his apparent physical advantages, she had surprises up her sleeve.

She was physically smaller and lighter than him, but those things didn't matter as much at times. He'd seen Kaliya cornered in close quarters once or twice, and not only was she agile and flexible, she was the most underhanded fighter he'd ever seen. She would kick, scratch, bite, punch--he'd even seen her dig the edge of her armor into someone's eye once.

Hopefully she'd hold back on that instinct here. He heard the door open behind him, turned around, and felt his mouth fall open.

Less restrictive clothing was a must, but...her exercise outfit left about as much to the imagination as Miranda's body suit. The black cloth hugged her legs and body, cutting off at her feet. He realized he was gaping, and quickly turned away.

"Ah. Shepard," he said, mandibles flaring out. "We'll start off slow, pick up the pace if you feel you're up to it."

Kaliya quirked an eyebrow at him. He too was dressed in less than she was used to seeing, a blue shirt that cut off at the arms, and matching blue pants. "Rules?" she asked, joining him in stretching.

Garrus thought about it for a moment. "Well, seeing how we don't have a referee, we'll have to call it ourselves. No permanent damage, no teeth or claws, and no biotics."

"No biotics? Are you just asking me to get my ass kicked?"

Anyone else might have backed down, but Garrus knew her too well. She wasn't actually angry, and he was right when it came to this. "No biotics," he said firmly. "Shepard, the whole point of this exercise was to blow off some steam and work on your hand to hand. I won't be much good for teaching you if you break my arm with a biotic punch."

She glared for a few seconds, then nodded, backing down. She understood why the ground rules were set as they were. It did, however, place her at a tremendous disadvantage. Garrus was stronger, taller, and much less vulnerable than she was without armor. Without her biotics, and without fighting to inflict serious harm...it was a very different combat situation from most she'd been in since after basic training.

When they were both ready, Garrus took up a position across the room from her. She fell into a defensive stance. She wasn't a hand-to-hand specialist--her style was avoiding a scenario like the one she found herself in now, and her instincts kicked in.

Garrus made the first move and took a step toward her, causing her to immediately jump to the side. He chuckled a little and shook his head.

"Nervous, Shepard?"

She didn't reply, watching his movements as they slowly circled one another. Each full step of his was about one and a half of hers. Now that neither of them had armor or weapons, the physical difference between them became very apparent indeed.

She was cautious, defensive, calculating. And Garrus decided he had to upset that. This time he lunged at her without warning, intending to grab her around the middle. She darted underneath his arms and tumbled to the side with milliseconds to spare.

"Jesus," she said as she hastily backed away. "You weren't kidding about the reach."

A few more passes like that followed, which him making the first move, and her barely getting out of the way. It was like trying to catch a varren with his bare hands. "Shepard," he growled softly, voice rising. "Fight me, don't run from me!"

It didn't work. It was almost impossible to goad or faze Kaliya Shepard into doing anything she didn't want to do. If a Reaper couldn't use psychological tactics on her, he had no chance in hell. Instead, she just smiled that maddeningly calm half-smile and took a step back, gesturing for him to come at her.

He obliged, but this time, he came at her from an angle. She ducked again, but the cloth covering her legs caught the spur on the back of his leg, throwing her off balance. Garrus lost no time and spun, throwing her to the mat. He expected her to try and get up, but instead, she flipped to her side and aimed a kick at the back of his knee.

In the time it took him to dodge, she managed to jump back to her feet, her back arching at an angle that made him wince a little. "Not bad, Shepard," he said. "What's the human martial art that emphasizes flexibility?"

"Yoga," she replied, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. "And it's not a martial art."

"Doesn't change the fact that I've never seen anyone bend like that."

Inexplicably, Kaliya felt herself starting to blush. Now this was getting stupid. "Human females are much more flexible than human males," she said in as matter-of-fact voice as she could manage.

"Interesting. I was under the impression that--"

She jumped him mid-sentence, aiming for his legs. Garrus kicked out at her and caught her in the stomach, sending her flying backward, landing hard on her side, and he felt his heart plummet as she lay unmoving.

He rushed to her side, and heard her laughing at him just a moment too late. She rolled toward him and trapped his legs between hers, sending them both crashing to the floor. Before he knew it, she was sitting on his waist, his arms trapped by hers.

"Oldest trick in the book, Garrus," she said with a wicked smile. "Shouldn't have let your guard down."

Garrus allowed her to gloat for a few seconds before he simply pushed against her, easily overcoming her with sheer physical strength. With one twist of his body, their situations were quickly reversed.

"I'm stronger than you, Shepard," he said with a smirk, pinning her arms above her head, his face inches from hers. "You know that. So how are you going to get out of this?"

Kaliya's mind was spinning. He was hot, feverish to the touch, yet he hadn't even broken a sweat. She could feel his breath on her cheek, his pulse in the taloned hands that held her like a vice. He was absolutely right--trying to pull free of his grip would only break her bones. No biotics, no dirty fighting, no going for weak points that could cause permanent damage. But she wasn't going to lose to Garrus just because he was stronger than she was.

Head swimming, heart pounding, and almost completely helpless, she did the only thing she could do. Wincing against the pain in her shoulder joints, she turned her face toward his and kissed him.

His hands loosened, and suddenly she felt the arms that had been trapping her wrap around her and pull her up toward him. A low, almost predatory growl came from his throat as he buried his hands in her thick black hair. He tasted both sweet and bitter, and that strange musky scent she'd caught the previous night flooded her senses.

Garrus was all muscle and sinew, strength and heated skin scraping against hers. She had a vague sense of him holding her upright, of her legs wrapping around his waist, and a tiny voice at the back of her head screamed that this was a _very bad idea_, but there was fire in her blood like she'd never felt and blood pounding in her ears. Her hands wandered to the curious collar ridge, then lower along his spine.

She heard him gasp in surprise, and he abruptly pulled back from her. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated as he gasped for breath, the two of them half-sitting and half-collapsed on the mat.

He chuckled nervously, casting about for something to break the silence even as the realization of what had just happened began to hit home--hard. "I...uh...wow, Shepard. Didn't know you had a weakness for men with scars."

She seemed stunned by what she'd done, unable to speak. He continued talking, if only to have something to do. "Listen, Shepard, if you want to, we can just forget about this and--"

"No."

Her voice was shaky, but determined. "No," she said more clearly, as her mind finally caught up to her senses. She smiled a little and reached out a tentative hand toward him. Automatically, he took her pale, slim human hand in his, fingers resting between powerful talons. "I...well, this wasn't exactly how I planned to tell you, but it doesn't look like my feelings need much explaining any more."

And then it hit him with the force of a dreadnought. Kaliya Shepard, first human Spectre and savior of the galaxy, big goddamn hero Kaliya Shepard had just kissed him. Just run those beautiful, pale hands of hers along his skin. Disbelief, elation, and panic warred within him in equal parts, and words just came spilling out of his mouth.

"Shepard, I--I've got no experience here. I've never even considered cross-species intercourse." He frowned and shook his head. "Damn, saying it that way doesn't help, does it? Now I feel...dirty and clinical."

"Are we crazy to be even thinking about this?" he mused, oblivious to her internal turmoil. "Shepard...Kaliya..." He couldn't meet her eyes, instead focusing on her hand clasped in his. "It's not that I'm not...interested, but...I'm sure you can find something a little closer to home."

She shook her head and squeezed his hand. "Is that what you're worried about?" she asked quietly. "Garrus, I don't want something 'closer to home.' I want _you_. Someone I--" She stopped suddenly, checked herself, and said, "Someone I can trust."

But she had been the one to initiate all this, hadn't she? Quickly, she added, "But I'm not trying to pressure you. If you're not comfortable with this--"

Garrus shook his head to cut her off and curled one hand in her thick black hair, watching in surprise and curiosity as her eyes fluttered closed. "Shepard," he said quietly, "you're about the only friend I've got left in this screwed up galaxy." He sighed and looked at the two of them sitting there--human and turian, man and woman.

"I'm not going to pretend I've got a fetish for humans, but this isn't about that. This is about us." He smiled, stroking the back of her neck ever so gently with one claw. "You don't have to worry about making me uncomfortable. Nervous, maybe, but never uncomfortable."

The slow, shy smile that spread across her face was unlike anything he'd ever seen from her. She was blushing, a surefire sign she was just as nervous, but also smiling broadly. "So what happens now?" she asked. "I can do some research, figure out how we can make this work."

Garrus nodded and got to his feet, gently bringing her up with him. They were alone for now as they set the mats aside and put the cargo room back to rights, sneaking glances and little touches, but as soon as they stepped outside that door, all the complications of this, combined with the burdens of the mission, would come rushing back.

"I'd be discreet about this and wait, if you're okay with it," he said thoughtfully. "Disrupt the crew as little as possible." She nodded in agreement. "Then we can take that last chance to find some calm just before the storm."

"You know me," he added. "I always like to savor the last shot before popping the heat sink."

Kaliya's mouth quirked, then she started laughing, the same helpless laughter as the night before. He stared at her, confused, before the realization of exactly what he'd said began to sink in.

"Wait--that metaphor just went somewhere horrible!"

"Remember what I said, Garrus?" she said through her giggles. "Quit talking while you're ahead sometimes?"

"Yeah...apparently I'm not very good at that," he said sheepishly.

They both tossed clothes over their meager sparring garb, and when he turned back to look at her, she was back in the white, black, and gold of her uniform. Back to being Commander Shepard, with all the burdens and pains. How she could be both an inspiring and a heartbreaking sight like that was beyond him, but he took the opportunity to brush his hand against hers as she opened the door.

The elevator ride passed in a comfortable silence, their hands barely touching until they came to the crew level.

"You should get back to work," said Kaliya, shooing him out of the elevator.

"Right," said Garrus dryly. "Because I'm in a great place to optimize firing algorithms right now." He caught just a glimmer of a smile from her before the elevator doors shut behind him.

Back in the captain's quarters, Kaliya Shepard sat at her console, a mixture of nervous adrenaline and hope making her heart pound. She closed her eyes and the feelings came swimming back. Garrus's heady warmth, his strength, the strangely exotic feeling of that skin against hers. She briefly envied Thane and his perfect recollection, but she would take any happy memory she could get.

She decided to go to bed early, catch up on some lost sleep. Her sleep would not be peaceful--it never was. But at least tonight, she had a better chance for happy dreams.


End file.
